


risky

by YukinaMika



Series: 2020 [30]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Slade Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Community: dckinkmeme, Implied Bruce Wayne/Tim Drake, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Omega Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26695402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukinaMika/pseuds/YukinaMika
Summary: He, however, lets slip a breathless whisper of the man's name and Slade, with his enhanced hearing, takes notice.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Slade Wilson
Series: 2020 [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593016
Comments: 6
Kudos: 113





	risky

**Author's Note:**

> For [Kinkmeme.](https://dckinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/766.html?thread=674046)

What they have is not love. It is something cold and precise, professionalism in its barest nature.

It is an agreement that benefits both. A strange token of repayment, is what it is.

Both of them are not lacking in admirers or flings. It might just be easier to just pay someone for an evening of their time.

But sometimes, Tim needs a favor done, discreetly and without the judgement from the straight and narrow heroes. And well, hiring people to do his bidding is a good idea until he remembers Bruce often looks over his spending.

Funny that an omega can be the CEO of Wayne Enterprise but cannot open a bank account without the permission of their guardian.

And this is where Slade comes in.

Tim used to think that money might just be an issue until he remembers that there are other types of currency.

Slade does not lack money. And with his obsession with Robins in general?

Tim found the perfect solution. And the result, he has to admit, is pretty sweet.

Every time they run across each other, his heart skips a beat because he knows. One way or another, he will be on his back, legs spread and fucked silly, hanging on Slade's enormous knot.

And god, does Slade knows how to fuck.

He is pinned down beneath a firm, unyielding body, legs over broad shoulders, wrists held above his head, locked together by one hand, the other clamps tight around the base of his cock. Whimpers fall from his lips at every thrust, his walls stretch to accommodate Slade's cock, fluttering weakly as the mercenary grinds the head of his cock against the opening of his womb.

His hips tremble helplessly under the onslaught of pleasure, body humming with bliss as he takes every thrust, nose full of the musky scent of arousal, blue eyes dilated at the total control the alpha has over him, pinning him down and restricting his movement. All he can do is whine and pant and take whatever he is given. He cannot squirm or rock back against the each thrust, grounded by the grip around his wrists and the vice around his cock.

"Please," he pleads hoarsely, toes curling and eyes rolling back, "Let me come."

The one downside is that Slade is a bastard. A sadistic bastard who loves driving Tim up the edge until he is crying and begging.

God, why such a bastard has to have a nice cock? There is no fairness, is there?

Slade squeezes down on his sensitive cock and Tim goes cross-eyed, pain and pleasure warring down his spine, his mouth as dry as a desert as he shakes, hips bucking and letting out little whimpers of pleasurable pain when the hand stays firmly around his cock.

There is no answer to his pleading, Slade keeping the pace of his thrust, staring down at him almost impassionedly. 

And god, all Tim can see is Bruce, looking down at him when he is sprawled on his back, defeat ringing in his bones. All Tim can think is Bruce pinning him down, claiming his prize with each thrust, teeth digging into the flesh of his shoulder as he ruts into his downed opponent.

Tim moans, nearly blacking out from the hot bolt of pleasure from that image. Only the grip around his cock keeps him from coming at the thought of being taken and knotted by Bruce.

He, however, lets slip a breathless whisper of the man's name and Slade, with his enhanced hearing, takes notice.

"What was that?" a sudden hard thrust that has Tim gasping for air, "Whose name did you just moan, boy?"

Tim stares up, dizzy and lightheaded from the prolong pleasure. In one sudden moment, he has a thought.

"Bruce," he moans, the beginning of a smirk in his tone as he looks straight into Slade's eyes, "Fuck me."

The air crackles with tension and Tim grins triumphantly, clenching down on the length inside him, tilting his neck back to present the vulnerable skin.

"Come on, Bruce!" he goads, rolling his hips, eyes rolling back at the mixture of pain and pleasure when the grip on his cock tightens almost painfully, "Want your knot inside me. Want to be filled with your cum."

He is about to add about how Bruce would stretch his cunt out, would milk him until his cock is limp and drooling, coming dry after endless orgasms. He would taunt Slade with how Bruce would plug him up with cum until he is round and swelling with pups, would talk about how Bruce's cock would feel in his ass, fucking lazily in his other hole, playing with his milk-swollen tits.

Slade does not give him a chance. The older man glares down at him, face dark and thunderous before his hips thrusts, the head of his cock slamming into Tim's cervix before retreating just a fraction only to surge inside again, hitting his cervix and repeating the cycle again and again.

Tim cries out against the brutalization of his cunt, body going slack under the pleasure, eyes rolling backward and hips trembling under the forces of the thrusts. And when Slade lets go of his wrists to reach over to their discarded pile of clothes, Tim cannot muster enough energy to do anything than clawing at the sheets as the cock inside him drives him crazy with each thrust.

Something winds around his cock and Tim looks down only to gasp at the sight of Slade binding his cock with a piece of clothes that seemed to have been ripped from his suit.

"You seem to have forgotten whose cock is inside you, boy," Slade rumbles, hips slowing down into a grind, watching impassively as Tim whines and squirms, "You don't care whose cock it is, do you?"

Sadistic bastard, indeed, with the way he holds Tim's waist, anchoring him in place, splitting him open but not moving an inch.

"Greedy slut," Slade sounds almost fond as he captures Tim's wrists, pinning them above his head, "By tomorrow, the only name you know will be mine."

And with that, his hips snap forward, repeatedly hitting his cervix as Tim is folded in half, pinned down and expose as Slade thrusts in and out of his trembling body. His cock throbs, ready to burst but he cannot do anything, orgasm kept at bay by the makeshift cock ring.

At the back of his mind, Tim knows that this is dangerous. None of them brings a condom and Tim isn't on pills. STDs is no problem with Tim having a clean bill of health and Slade being a meta-human.

Pregnancy, however, is another story.

"Wait," he gasps, breathless at the feeling of a half-formed knot against his opening, "Slade-"

His warning trails off when the knot pops in and his eyes roll back at the pleasure brought forth by the nice thick cock. He is impossibly full with a cock in his cunt, and when Slade comes, his knot tying them as close as possible, Tim cries and drools as he is stretched and pumped full of cum, cock hard and throbbing, kept from his own end.

His walls are sensitive, his cock red and angry. His whole body is boneless, stomach heavy with the load Slade pumped inside him, keeping it plug up by his enormous knot.

He clenches down on the pulsing length, whimpering as Slade reaches a hand down to play with his chest.

"When you're with pups," Slade starts casually like they are talking about the weather rather than tied together by his knot, "These will be so swollen."

Tim whines at the image. He knows what pregnancy does to an omega and the thought of his chest swelling in preparation for his pups' nursing brings a bolt of heat down his spine and his cunt flutters, excitement brimming under his skin.

"Your alpha might have to milk you," Slade's eyes are intense, fixated on his stomach, "Get these little perky tits between his teeth and drink to his heart's content."

He doesn't mean it but Tim whines, high-pitched and needy and under Slade's amusement, he blushes, muscles locking up and moans when he accidentally squeezes down on the knot inside. The breathless groan from Slade is but a tiny consolation.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? All swollen and leaking. A pretty little thing for your alpha?"

He closes his eyes and nods, desires roaring in his ears. He is stretched and filled yet still unsatisfied, his cock bound and unable to climax.

"That's a good omega," he shivers at the praise, hips twitching lightly, "Now, all you need to do is to learn the name of your alpha." 

"Bruce?" he tries a joke, whimpering when Slade growls.

Yup. Playing with fire. Though really, with the time Slade spent riling him up, just a little bit of retaliation is fine.

"I am a possessive man, boy. I don't want to hear other names in my bed."

"Then make good on your promise," Tim's grin is white with teeth, "Fuck me until your name is the only thing I remember."

It is playing with fire but Tim does not have it in him to care when Slade grips his waist and thrusts.

It is delicious how Slade manhandles him, folding him in half and pounds into him. All ruthless and precise, just like how he fights.

And Tim is drooling and mewling when he is knotted a second time, sanity barely intact when desperation sings in his veins.

"Please let me come," he babbles as the knot inside softens enough that Slade's rocking turns into short but powerful thrusts, "Alpha, please!"

He sobs when a hand close around his throat. The grip is loose but his head is swimming, neck baring, presenting the soft skin of his scent gland.

"And who is your alpha? Whose cock is inside your cunt? Whose knot you are milking?"

His breath stutters, cheeks red at the vulgarity. At the admission he is about to make just for a chance to climax.

"You," he mumbles, closing his eyes tight and blocking out the triumphant chuckle, "You're my alpha."

The grip around his neck tightens minutely and he gasps, eyes flying open and wet with tears. He sags against the grip when the pressure disappears, blinking up at pleased blue eyes.

"That's a good omega," he shivers as his cock is free from the constraints, eyes half-lidded under the praise, "I want to hear my name on your lips when you come."

It is an order and Tim knows it. And when Slade fucks into him, loose and wet with cum and his own juice, he babbles his gratitude.

The knot slips inside for the third time, his walls convulsing rapidly around the pulsing length. He chants Slade's name as he comes, eyes rolling back, toes curling, almost blacking out with overwhelming pleasure.

His body groans when Slade moves again. The knot has gone down enough that cum is beginning to slip out.

"You're still hard?" he whines, tired and overstimulated, "What the fuck, Slade?"

"Fuck, kid. You forgot already?" the mercenary huffs, rocking into his oversensitive heat, "Enhanced stamina, remember?"

Tim moans, boneless against the newest wave of pleasure.

"Didn't I tell you I'd fuck you silly until the only thing you remember is my name?"

God, he's fucked.

* * *

Morning comes and Tim finds himself utterly wrecked. His body aches and bone-tired.

Slade is still inside him, his knot still has not gone down completely. Apparently, Slade fucked him all night, even when Tim passed out for exhaustion.

That, he takes in stride but Tim, however, freezes at the sight of his stomach, swelling with a tiny bump like he is newly pregnant.

In theory, Tim knows he cannot be showing so soon. Whether he is pregnant or not, which there is a high chance that he is with the way they went last night, it would take two or three months before it shows.

"I don't suppose you can get your hands on some morning after pills?"

He crosses his fingers despite knowing that Slade probably won't agree. They never stay, after all. Quick to take off the moment they are awake and decent.

"You're saying that you can't?" Slade, as always, is a condescending bastard, "Run out of money, rich boy?"

"Fuck you!" he hisses, disentangling himself and landing on his side, "I'm demanding child support if you knocked me up!"

"Please," Slade snorts, eyeing him like he is nothing but dirt on the sole of his boot, "We both know there will never be a child from this."

"You knotted me how many times again?" Tim did not keep count but he knows it was more than a dozen, "I'm a healthy omega, Slade. Taking that many knots can actually knock me up."

"We both know that you won't keep it." 

Tim grits his teeth as he reaches for his clothes, knowing that Slade is right. He cannot risk having children, especially not Deathstroke's.

Bruce might just cast him out and Dick would never talk to him again. His friends would be so disappointed and god! How could he face his dead parents?

"This is a disaster..."

**Author's Note:**

> Can the clock turn back so I don't have to wake up and go outside?


End file.
